Aikera Driselle, the Unwilling Slytherin
by Silvain Star
Summary: Aikera wasn't given a choice. The Sorting Hat didn't give her time to object. She never wanted to be a Slytherin. She wasn't her father, she wasn't like him at all.


Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. J.K. Rowling does.

A/N: This may be a bit confusing, since it's the weirdest idea I've ever thought of, and that's definitely saying something. So, since it's so weird, and the story sort of starts in the middle, I'll give you guys a bit of background.

Background- When Harry destroyed the last Horcrux, some random Death Eater told Voldemort what happened, and Voldemort realized he had no chance of stopping Harry anymore (amazing revelation, huh? Took him awhile…), so he came up with the random and insane idea to have a kid. He got -insert random female follower's name here- pregnant, hoping the kid would be a lot like him or something, and hoping they'd kill Harry for revenge, too. He died in the final battle, and a few months later, on October 12, 1997, Aikera Driselle Riddle, the daughter of Lord Voldemort, was born. She turned out to be almost nothing like him.

Well, that's the background. Now here's the very strange story………

Aikera Driselle

Chapter 1

Aikera sat slumped in a chair in the library, her long black hair nearly covering her face, and almost hiding the lonely, out of place look in her blue eyes. Matt London sat a few tables away, watching the Slytherin girl with such intensity that, in any other situation, every other Gryffindor in the room would have thought he was insane. But these two weren't considered a normal case, so no one really worried about it. Matt ran a hand through his blond hair, the light reflecting off the faint orange highlights, and sighed sadly. He looked at the sad girl, his light blue eyes darkened with worry and concern.

"I still don't get it, Matt. She's a Slytherin. You're a Gryffindor. Why do you bother?" Daniel Potter said, sitting beside his older friend and shaking his head.

"That's not true. She's not a Slytherin. Her bloodline, is, maybe, but her heart, her personality, isn't. she's not like the rest of them, the other Slytherins, but because she's a Slytherin, she's not accepted by the rest of us. She's got it harder then you think, Dan," Matt said, looking at his friend, who had always been against Matt's obsession with Aikera. "Why don't you like her, anyway?"

"Her dad tried to kill my dad. Repeatedly. I don't want to be nice to Voldemort's daughter," Dan said, looking exactly like Harry had at thirteen years old, when he sat in the library arguing a point about something like Snape or Sirius Black to his best friends.

"You don't know her, Dan. She hates who her father was, she doesn't want to be in his House. She wants friends, and it's people like you that stop her from having them. People who blame her for what her father did," Matt said.

"Maybe…" Dan replied. He stood up, going to another table to sit beside his twin sister, who had long red hair and green eyes with light brown around the pupil.

Matt stared after him, hoping the third year would change his mind someday. Unfortunately, now wasn't the time to worry about it, since Matt had tons of homework, and his OWLS were quickly approaching, according to the teachers, even though it was still only late November. He turned to the Potions essay on the table, opening his textbook and looking for something that might help him. He was on his fifth sentence when he felt someone walk up behind him and stop just to his right, barely an inch from his elbow.

"I heard you defend me to your friend Dan. That was really nice of you," they said. Matt looked up to see Aikera pulling out the chair to his right and sitting down. "No one else really bothers, even if they don't believe I'm anything like my father. No one else seems to care enough to stop people from saying stuff like that about me or being mean to me. They just ignore me. I don't belong in Slytherin house, but no one else wants me around, either. The Slytherins think I'm an embarrassment to their wonderful, precious, oh-so-high-and-mighty, never-be-wrong house. Them and their egos smother me in the dorms. There's not enough room left to breathe, with four other girls with egos the size of the Earth in the room." Aikera giggled, smiling at the confused and amazed Gryffindor. Matt blinked a few times, then started to chuckle.

"Yeah, I'm not surprised. I always wonder how they can fit through the classroom doors, they'd have to shrink their egos, but that's not very Slytherin-like to them, is it?" he said, grinning at her.

"Nope, I still wonder how they ever stop gloating, and I've been forced to room with them for the past four school years already," Aikera said.

"They actually stop gloating? Huh… maybe they're daydreaming about gloating, or reliving their favorite brags," Matt suggested, looking almost serious, even though he was simply joking the more Slytherin-like Slytherins in the school with Aikera.

"Yeah, maybe," Aikera said, grinning at him. "You know, Matt, you're kinda cute." She stood up and kissed him on the cheek then walked away. Matt touched his cheek where she kissed him.

"Wow…" he whispered. He stared semi-dreamily after her retreating form.

A hand hit the back of his head with about the force of a Firebolt crashing into a tree at full speed, or at least, that's how Matt described it later to Daniel.

"Stop daydreaming, you idiot! You have homework to do!" the owner of the pain-inflicting hand, Kimberley Shenastarr Harrison, snapped, shoving a textbook in his face. She had long, wavy brown hair, currently pulled back carelessly in a ponytail, and she held three textbooks in her arms. Matt looked up to see his annoyed expression mirrored in his friend's hazel eyes and matched on her frowning face.

"You're done with the essay on Strengthening Solutions for Slughorn?" Matt asked, eyeing the books in her arms, none of which were about Potions. Kim nodded. "Any chance you'd help me? I'm going mad over here."

"No, I have to finish my Arithmancy, and I have an essay for Transfiguration and Flitwick's essay on Silencing charms," Kim said. "And you could probably ask Aikera for help, I think she got the essay done just now."

"Fine…" Matt sighed resignedly. He got up to go after Aikera, hoping Kim had been right about that essay, since he had no clue what to write anymore. The five sentences, which was possibly, if he rewrote it bigger, 5 inches of the 12 they were assigned, was all he could come up with. He saw her just outside, walking down the hall with a little less sadness in her step than usual, but still not moving at much more than a very slow walking pace. He caught up to her easily.

"Hey, Aikera! I was just wondering if you could help me with Slughorn's essay. I figured you might have been working on it in the library when I was talking to Dan, and since Kim thinks I'd be better off failing, and you were just in there, I thought maybe…" Matt trailed off, blushing as he realized she was staring at him like he'd lost his brain in the hall somewhere. "Great. I was rambling, wasn't I? I sorta do that when I'm a bit nervous sometimes." He blushed deeper as he realized what he'd just said.

Aikera leaned close to his ear and whispered, "I've changed my mind. You're really cute, especially when you're nervous."

She stepped back and began walking away. After she had gone a little ways down the hall, she stopped and called back, "Sure, I'll help you." As Matt caught up to her again, she added, "Cutie," and grinned. Matt's blush deepened even further, if possible. "Let's go," she said, pulling him by the sleeve to an empty classroom. "Too many stares and glares in the library," she explained.

"Alright," Matt agreed, sitting down. The pair pulled out their textbooks and began going over Matt's essay, which he finished quite quickly with her help.

A/N: I would like to take this time to very kindly ask for reviews. Ahem… If you read this without leaving a review, I will haunt you when I die from lack of attention to my wonderful (though admittedly insane) stories. Please review and save the review-starved authors of the world… er well, world wide web, at least.


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